


Lost in New York

by dyingpoet



Category: The Outsiders - All Media Types
Genre: Protectiveness, Subways, idek what to tag this, so look out, theres some bonefide violence in this tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 21:05:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14860283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyingpoet/pseuds/dyingpoet
Summary: Dallas brings Johnny and Two-bit to Brooklyn with him for a week and they do not understand the subway system





	Lost in New York

**Author's Note:**

> I'm goin' through a writing slump atm so please don't hate me if you despise this

“Okay,” Dallas said, “You guys take the B44 to Bedford and Taylor, get off and transfer to the M, take  _ that _ to Central and get off.”

Johnny and Two-bit nodded and watched as Dallas, for the first time they’d ever seen, looped a tie around his neck and tied it. 

“We got it Dal,” Two-bit said.

Johnny nodded and barely managed to bite back a grin when Dallas turned back around. 

He was in a suit, not a great one but it was clean and fit him. It looked put together and so un-Dallas like that it even took Two-bit a second to get out a decent wolf whistle before falling into laughter. 

“Fuck off.”

They were in Brooklyn. After all these years Dallas had finally come back for a funeral, his uncle’s, and took Johnny and Two-bit with him for a week.

The rest of the gang had to work, even Pony had gotten a summer job, so it was just the three of them in a shitty motel in bad neighborhood in the best city in the world. Johnny’d never felt so happy for so long in his whole life. 

Dallas finished putting on his shoes and stood up. “Okay, my cousin’s picking me up, I’ll see you guys outside the cemetery at three.” 

They nodded again and watched Dallas grab a pen and scribble something down on the motel notepad. “Here, this is the funeral home number if ya need it, just ask for me.”

Johnny accepted the paper, folding it up and putting it in his pocket. Two-bit would just lose it and on the off chance they got mugged or something, they oughta be able to call someone. 

“We’ll make it alright Dal,” Two-bit said, “sorry again ‘bout your uncle.”

“Yeah Dal, that’s real tough,” Johnny said.

Taking one last second to straighten his tie Dallas shrugged. “S’all right, didn’t know him all that well, more goin’ for his kids anyway.”

It was weird to hear of Dallas doing anything for anybody, but he was sort of a different person in New York. More comfortable almost, and way more protective of Johnny and Two-bit; back home if they met Dallas anywhere they’d fend for themselves on the way and Dallas wouldn’t give a damn. Things were different here. 

With a final wave and reminder of their directions, Dallas was gone, leaving Johnny and Two-bit with a few hours on their hands.

Johnny pulled out a smoke and lit up, watching Two-bit turn on the TV and kick his feet up.

“We can’t go outside, so get ready for a Mickey marathon, kid.”

* * *

 

After keeping their heads down and getting shouted at by four cab drivers in four different languages, Johnny and Two-bit got on the B44. It was two o’clock sharp.

There was one seat left and Johnny thought they were going to have to fight over it, but Two was at the other end of the car before he could open his mouth to say anything. 

It was a girl. Brunette, pretty, reading a book and pointedly trying to ignore Two-bit’s pick-up lines with the slightest hint of a smile on her face. Just his type.

All that meant to Johnny was he got a seat. 

Incoherent static resembling a voice came out of the speaker above his head and the train started moving. Leg bouncing up and down, Johnny watched Two-bit finally get the girl’s attention and manage a laugh out of her. That was the last glimpse he got before they got to the next stop and a wave of people, all having to stand got on, cutting off his view of Two-bit. 

It took his a minute to realize he’d started rubbing at the scar on his face and there was a guy standing in front of him giving him a weird look for it. Dally’s told him to not make eye contact with anyone, ‘case they got pissed off. So, he lowered his eyes and crossed his feet before pulling them further under the seat.

All the stops so far were Bedford and something. Everyone seemed to understand the conductor but him and he was starting to get really nervous that they were going to miss the stop. A guy in an overcoat was blocking his view of the other end of the car, and getting up would force him to stand and draw attention to himself. So, he stayed put and waited through two more stops with reassurance that they weren’t his.

But at the next stop, the crackling conductor  _ said  _ Taylor. He had to of, and he would have sworn the lady sitting across from him said Taylor too. And a lot of people were standing up and moving toward the door, which had to mean that it was Taylor because Dally said there would be a lot of people getting off there to transfer.

Two-bit was still out of sight but it  _ was _ Bedford and Taylor. He knew it was. 

And so, when the train grinded to a halt, he stood up and craned his neck to try and catch a glimpse of Two-bit, was promptly shoulder checked by the man in the overcoat, and let himself be semi-pushed out of the train car and onto the station platform. 

Because it  _ was  _ the right platform. 

Which is why when about thirty seconds passed  _ without  _ Two-bit getting off the train, Johnny’s breathing started to get a little funny.

About fifteen seconds after that, the doors to the car started to shut and he tasted blood before pulling his bottom lip out from between his teeth. 

“Johnny?”

Two-bit’s head appeared just as the doors to the train-car shut and it started moving again. 

“Shit, Two-bit-”

The train was gone.

And this wasn’t Bedford and Taylor. If he’d turned his head to the right instead of staring stupidly at the train, Johnny might’ve seen the sign that very clearly read ‘Bedford and Gates’. 

“Fuck.”

That fucking conductor had  _ said  _ Taylor. A cold sweat started to creep into his skin as the train passed and left him with the company of various New Yorkers and homeless people.

Johnny moved toward the back wall and kept his eyes down, hands clenching into fists in his pockets because  _ god  _ he had no idea what to do. This was the second time he’d ever ridden the subway, the first being with Dal the day before, and he had no clue what he should be doing right now. 

“Hey fuck you man!”

Johnny looked up and watched a guy, about six foot and built enough to give Darry a run for his money, pull a blade and take a step toward a bum stumbling near the tracks. The bum snapped something at the guy and they were at each other before Johnny got a chance to blink. 

They were starting to draw blood when Johnny felt the paper in his pocket brush his fingers. Thank god. 

“Hey break it up-”

Two guys in neon vests ran over just as Johnny scrambled into a payphone, it smelled like piss and looked like someone had tried to bash the door down with a bat but it muffled the sound of the fight. 

There was a rather pained yell as Johnny put his change in the slot and dialed up the number for the funeral home. God he hoped he wasn’t calling in the middle of the damn thing, Dallas’d be pissed if he did. Actually, he almost convinced himself to hang up and just wait it out in the phonebooth for the next train when someone picked up on the other end. 

_ “Ponce Funeral Home, what can I help you with today?” _

“I, uh-”

Someone let out a yell best described as animalistic from the platform and Johnny hunched his shoulders and curled himself further into the corner of the booth.

“- I’m looking for Dallas Winston? He said-”

_ “Please hold.” _

The line clicked and some slow instrumental song started up. They really oughta get some more cheerful music for a funeral home. If he was calling to bury someone and this started playing he might just shove the gun in his mouth right then and there. 

_ “Hello?” _

“Dallas?”

Johnny tried to stop the desperation from creeping into his voice, because there was definitely still a fight going on outside the booth, but he was awful at that sort of stuff.

_ “Johnny? You okay? Where are you?” _

God Dallas actually sounded worried because he’d been enough of a dumbass to get off at the wrong stop. “I, uh, I got off at the wrong stop by mistake,” he started, “And the train left and Two’s still on it-”

_ “What station are you at?” _

The response was clipped and Johnny’d bet a million dollars Dallas was ‘bout ready to punch something at the other end of the line.

“Bedford and Gates.”

There was a deep sigh and Johnny bit his lip. A scab had started to form from earlier and he ripped it open. 

_ “Okay, well you gotta get on the next train, you shouldn’t hang ‘round there long. Taylor’s two stops from where you are, funeral ended early so I can meet ya there in about twenty minutes.” _

He was talking awful fast. “Ya think Two-bit’ll be there?”

_ “Yeah, he ain’t stupid enough to leave, he’ll probably call me. Just get on the train, Johnny, you’ll be fine.” _

The reassurance was out of character for Dallas but again, things were different here, and they both knew it. 

“‘Kay.”

_ “I’ll see ya soon kid.” _

“See ya.”

The line clicked off. It was quiet in the booth and Johnny silently prayed that the fight was over as he pushed open the door. 

The amount of people ignoring the now beat-to-shit bum was kind of sick, but otherwise, Brooklyn had moved on and took Johnny with it.

* * *

 

He didn’t get a seat the second time around. The guy standing next to him had about six piercing in his face and Johnny tried not to stare. Failing, he almost tripped over himself getting out once they got to his stop. His  _ correct  _ stop.

Piercing guy didn’t follow him out for which he was infinitely grateful. 

The gratitude continued. Two-bit was pacing near the exit, looking like he’d could pass out right then and there, and hadn’t caught sight of Johnny yet. 

Just as he opened his mouth to call him, there was a tug at the sleeve of his jacket. 

Jerking his arm forward, Johnny whipped around and looked at a decidedly ragged looking guy, probably in his forties, holding out a can and staring him dead in the eye. 

“Got any change?”

Johnny didn’t. But the guy was real close to him and pretty damn big and the words weren’t really coming out right.

“I-I don’t uh-”

A blade flipped out and Johnny could  _ feel  _ the shock reverberate through his body.

“Give me your fucking money kid.”

Not having any money made that impossible but the guy didn’t seem to care and grabbed at Johnny’s shirt collar roughly. “Hand it over-”

“Hey!”

A voice echoed from behind them and footsteps pounded after it. Another hand wrenched johnny back and Dallas was slamming the guy into a pillar as Two-bit gripped Johnny’s bicep hard and stood in front of him.

He couldn’t get a very good look but the guy’s blade hit the floor, and there was a sickening crack before he fell himself, nose bleeding like a faucet, unconscious. 

“Let’s get out’a here,” Dallas said. 

Two-bit said nothing, just pulled Johnny by the collar away from the growing puddle of blood and semi-indifferent faces of Brooklynites as Dallas lead them up the stairs and out of the subway completely.

Johnny felt like his insides were on fire. 

They were in an alley when Dallas finally stopped walking and Two-bit stopped dragging him along. He stared at the ground and clenched his fists to hide the shaking.

“You okay Johnny?”

He nodded without looking up.

Two-bit bumped his shoulder lightly. “I’m really fucking sorry, I should’a kept a better eye on you on the train.”

“Not your fault, I should’a paid attention to the stop.”

Dallas lit a cigarette and looked dead at Johnny without saying a word. 

Two-bit was apologizing but Johnny couldn’t hear it, he just nodded every once and a while and lit a smoke of his own. It felt like the guy’s hands were still on his neck and he scratched at it under it burned. 

After a few minutes Dallas hailed a cab, there were no complaints.

* * *

 

It was almost two in the morning when Johnny realized Dallas hadn’t fallen asleep. When he lit a cigarette Johnny almost kicked Two-bit off the bed in shock.

The room faded into darkness as Dallas flicked his lighter closed and took a long drag. He’d been tense since they got back, Two-bit had whispered that he’d never seen him so thrown off by a fight while they’d been playing cards and guilt flowered in Johnny’s chest. He could’ve gotten Dallas killed for Chrissake. It happened all the time. 

“Hey Johnnycake?”

The end of his cigarette glowed and Johnny took a moment to watch it fade before answering.

“Yeah?”

“That was tuff down there.”

“Ya think?”

“Yeah.”

Johnny smiled the slightest bit and felt a knot in his chest loosen the slightest bit. He turned on his side to face Dallas’s bed and watched him stub out his cigarette on the bed frame before catching Johnny’s gaze and holding.

“Fuck New York Johnny.”

“Yeah, fuck it Dal.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you didn't despise this
> 
> If you did, sorry bro i tried my best, if you didn't, please leave kudos or a comment bc i have no self esteem and need feedback to survive
> 
> it's 1am and these notes are the product of sleep deprivation

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [From New York With Love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15045479) by [johnny cade (johnnycake)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnnycake/pseuds/johnny%20cade)




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